


And a Million Years Gone By

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Canon, i'm not crying you're crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 00:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Hera worries about Jacen a lot.





	And a Million Years Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> Plays loosely with some parts of the timeline.

Hera worried about her son every day from the moment she found out she was pregnant. The medical droid informed her, then asked her in its carefully programmed polite compassion if she intended to continue the pregnancy. A thousand worries struck her at once. Hybrid children were rare, and were often born with serious medical concerns that cut their lives short. Force-sensitive children were even more rare, and the Inquisitors were still out there hunting. Daring to care about him only to lose him would devastate her. All of that ignored the serious toll this could take on her health. She worried, and she held out her arm for the first of the thirty injections she needed to prevent her body from rejecting the embryo.

She worried how her father would react. She'd steeled herself against his rejection years ago, and only in the last few years had she allowed herself to trust him. This possibility had existed ever since she'd met Kanan: that she would call or come home one day with a half-Twi'lek infant, and the Hero of Ryloth would have to choose how to react.

His hologram flickered before her. "Father," she said, and then stopped. Too much had happened in too short a time, and she didn't know where to begin.

His face drew into a quiet grief. "My heart aches with your heart," he said, quoting the customary funeral ritual. "Your sorrow is mine." The news had reached him before she'd had the chance.

Tears threatened again and she pushed them away. Tears were for when she was alone in her quarters. "Thank you." She couldn't bear the formal response, not now.

"Name anything you need," he said. "I will find the way."

"Right now, I need you to listen."

He wasn't upset, which Hera accepted with deep relief. He reflected the same worries she had, and suggested she give the child their family name. "It will buy him some safety on Ryloth, if there is any safety for him anywhere."

"I thought the same. I also wanted to ask if you would be unhappy if I named him after my brother." For a while, she'd considered giving her son one of his father's names, until she knew it would break her heart.

Her father's hologram bowed his head for a long moment, and his own old sorrows ran across his features. "I think it would be a fine name."

* * *

She didn't worry during his birth, but only as a matter of happenstance. One minute, she was in the middle of the Scarif debriefing while Command discussed the missing _Tantive IV_ when the room began to tilt. The next, she was blinking the sleep of anesthesia from her eyes.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to sit up, and finding herself bound with lines across her face and down her arms.

The medical droid turned to her. "You should remain still."

That didn't answer her question, but the next moment, Sabine came into the room, and before saying a word, she took her hand. "Hey."

"Sabine, what happened?"

"Your blood pressure took a nosedive. They had to get the baby out." Seeing the terror spike on Hera's face, she said quickly, "He's fine. I was with him just now. He's not crying, but they say his lungs are fine. They're checking everything to be sure. Zeb's still in there glaring at the doctor."

"I want to see him."

"You will," she said, wrapping her hand around Hera's protectively. "So much for coaching you through it, huh?"

"All that practice for nothing. But I'm glad you're here." She tried moving her head to see if she could get a glimpse, but the movement made her woozy.

"You're going to rest for a while," Sabine told her. "No arguments. The droids would like to dunk you into bacta for a week to be safe, but I told them the first thing you'd want when you woke up was to hold him. So you have to rest, all right?"

Hera didn't miss the tone. She'd used it on the kids enough for them to pick it up from her. "All right."

"Zeb!" Sabine called. "Tell the doctor to bring the baby in here already. His mother wants to meet him."

A long moment later, Zeb came into Hera's medical suite with a blanket-wrapped bundle. His face lit up when he saw her awake. "Good morning. I think this is yours."

Hera had seen dozens of holo-sensor images of her son, while the doctors examined his growth, his internal organs, and the emerging shapes of his limbs. She'd already noted the lack of fetal bumps on his cranium where his lekku should be. Even full Twi'leks were occasionally born without them, but only on the rarest occasions, and they often had other severe disabilities throughout their lives. She'd done her worrying, and she was prepared as Zeb set him into her arms for the first time.

She was not prepared for the fuzz of hair on his head, nor for him to have come out as pink as her father. His eyes blinked open and shut. She'd expected green but his irises were as blue as the deepest part of the sky. "Hello," she said, and it was all she could say before she started crying again.

Sabine's arms went around her shoulders in a fierce hug. "It's going to be okay. You're both alive. He's healthy. We're all safe now."

Hera caught her breath. "For how long? Have we heard anything from Leia?"

Zeb cracked a smile. Sabine pulled away from the hug with a sigh. "Yeah, the Princess made it back. You were out for a while. I'll get you caught up later." She turned her attention to the baby. "You said he would be tiny, but I can't believe how small he is."

"Twi'lek babies are born very small. We have big heads." She glanced at Zeb. "Don't make me draw you a picture."

He winced. "Too late."

Sabine said, "He looks like a human."

He did. She'd expected to see more of her own features. She had no idea what Kanan had looked like as an infant, leaving her to guess their child looked the way he had. Genetics were strange, and it didn't matter. She already loved him more than she could say. "He's perfect," Hera said, and she pushed away all her worries for the moment as she kissed his head.

* * *

Worry was her constant companion as Jacen grew. Was he eating enough? Was he sleeping enough? Was she holding him enough? Twi'lek babies were held in arms for their first year of life, passed between their parents and to their extended family members, learning from birth that they were loved and safe. Hera held him as often as she could, but she couldn't hold him every minute and still be useful to the cause. Attaching him to herself with a holder only made him cry. Chopper would carry him as often as she asked, but as much as she loved her droid, it wasn't the same. That left her seeking help from her friends, which hurt in a different way.

Sabine had stayed with them for a while, helping out until after the new base was set up and functional. She couldn't stay forever, though, and when they were settled, she returned first to Krownest, then to Lothal. Rex didn't mind taking a turn holding the baby when Hera was busy. Alexsandr wasn't happy but always volunteered when she needed him. Zeb spent an hour or more every day walking around with Jacen whenever he could. She appreciated their efforts to help her and still she had to bite down on the thick pain in her throat as she said thank you yet again. In another life, Kanan would have spent every moment he could holding their son, waving Hera off to deal with the Rebellion by herself while he danced the baby around the ship, or rocked him to sleep.

The only time she felt like she was holding him as she should was when she held him in her lap or snuggled against her shoulder while she flew the ship, enjoying the soft breaths against her neck as they soared together.

During the early months of her pregnancy, she and Chopper had rigged a rail to the side of her bunk. Now Jacen slept every night beside her, his tiny baby sounds blending in with the quiet whirring of Chopper in his charging station to soothe her to sleep. He had no means to notice how often they moved from base to base, nor the mad scramble of ships and troops as the Empire chased their heels. The _Ghost_ was his home, and if he noticed the changing view outside the bubble, he couldn't talk yet to tell her what he thought about that.

* * *

Human-Twi'lek hybrid children often exhibited slow developmental curves. The medical droids reminded Hera of this every time she brought Jacen in for his checkups. He remained in good health, thank the Force, but he was slow to walk and slower to talk. Hera worried about other delays they couldn't yet detect. That worry eased when he finally started talking at almost three, moving from single words into full sentences within a few days.

"Mama, why is hyperspace blue?"

"Because of blue shift in the radiation from the stars outside the hyperspace tunnel."

"Mama, what's radiation?"

She loved seeing the way his mind worked, but there were times his questions outpaced her patience, and the best she could do was pass him a datapad. "You'll have to research that on your own, little buddy."

"Okay."

Jacen loved datapads, insisting on stories read off his favorite datapad every night at bedtime. The following day, Hera often found him alone in his room with his toys acting out the same story she'd last read to him.

There was another worry. There weren't many children in the Rebellion. Too many Rebels had joined because they'd lost their families. Those who managed to come together to start new families weren't encouraged to leave, but they did anyway. This wasn't a life for a child.

Today she wasn't due in Command for a while. She joined him on the floor of his cabin, taking care not to disturb the carefully-lined up animal figures who were also his only friends.

"Tell me what's going on here," she said, pointing to his favorite model eopie, the one with the leg chewed off at the knee.

"Cyrin is going on a quest," Jacen said. Cyrin was the name of that toy. Miss Star Sparkle was the Wookiee beside him. The other figures took names from his stories, or from the few holos he'd seen. His favorite doll Squishy sat up on his bunk, watching the floor below. Squishy went on a lot of adventures, too, zooming around the _Ghost_ as Jacen made him fly. He'd invented personalities for all his favorite toys, and when he couldn't have his toys with him, a host of imaginary friends followed him around. Jiji was his imaginary tooka since Hera refused to bring aboard a real pet, and Jacen wouldn't go to sleep until Hera said goodnight to Jiji, too. Mister Misty went with him everywhere, and so did Stella, Turno, and an infrequent but memorable imaginary Bantha Jacen called Loot for reasons known only to himself.

And that was all. He had no other children around to play games with, or to grow up with, only adults who treated him with varying degrees of tolerance, a droid who thought teaching him to swear in binary was funny, and the characters he made up to fill his hours.

"What's Cyrin's quest?" she asked, even though she remembered last night's story, too.

"There's a mysterious artifact he has to find to save Harli." He poked his finger at another toy, this one a finely-dressed figurine of some aristocrat from Naboo, which fell over. "She's very sick," he said in a sad whisper. "But the mysterious artifact can cure her." He'd learned the word 'mysterious' three days ago and used it in every conversation now.

"Then it's a very important quest."

"Yep. Miss Star Sparkle has the map." He picked up the Wookiee and bent her legs until she could fit on the eopie. Jacen moved them off around his room, climbing over a pile of blankets like a mountain and up to his bunk to meet the sage old wizard Squishy.

Hera sat back while she watched him. His imagination populated the void in his life that he hadn't yet grasped existed. He didn't know he was lonely. He didn't know he ought to have playmates. He had no idea his room used to belong to his father, who wouldn't recognize the space now with all the bright colors Sabine had put on the walls in happy murals that acted as backdrops to Jacen's stories. He wasn't sad because he didn't know what he had to be sad about, and Hera knew there would be a reckoning some day for this. She ought to send him to Ryloth to stay with his grandfather for a while, to meet other kids and spend time outside of whatever base they lived on this time under the threat of discovery by the Empire.

But she didn't want to let go yet.

"Tell us the secret of the artifact so we can save our friend," Jacen said in Miss Star Sparkle's grumbly voice. He paused and listened, looking at Squishy. "Okay."

"That was easy," Hera said. "I thought the wizard Squishy would make them perform the death-defying leap." That had been the plot last night.

"He was but Mister Misty said the artifact is really somewhere else. The wizard doesn't have it. Their quest isn't over yet."

"It never is." She picked up another toy, this one a ship that looked a little like the _Phantom II_. "How about Cyrin and Miss Star Sparkle fly to where the artifact really is?"

* * *

Worries found her in big and small ways. They had to flee from another base while chased by Imperials, and Hera's first instinct was to get Jacen out of there, but she had to stay while the _Ghost_ escorted a capital ship with hundreds of crew to safety. She was used to the constant threat of annihilation. She still wasn't used to that threat aimed at the little boy in the co-pilot's chair.

Then there was the gallows humor every rotation when their contacts updated the List. All of them were wanted dead or alive by the Empire. That was old news. The List was the record of current bounties for each of them as offered by the Black Sun as the Empire's unsavory intermediary. Mon Mothma always topped the List, but the rest of Command moved up and down as they attracted the interest of the Empire. The second name on the List each rotation got free drinks from the rest of the top ten. Hera took her turns with everyone else, and she noticed along with them how often Commander Skywalker's name appeared on the List these days.

What no one else noticed, or what they were too polite to remark on, was how she often read the rest of the bounties, keeping track of how dangerous the Empire thought Sabine was this rotation, and what the going price was for the live acquisition of a known Force-sensitive child. She always told anyone who asked that he'd never shown any sign of his father's gifts. She'd spoken in private to Commander Skywalker, who said that yes, he sensed something about Jacen but that he would respect her wishes to say otherwise if anyone asked him.

"He could learn how to use his powers," he said. "He should know who he is."

Hera held back her first bitter response because she'd spoken with Rex, who'd spent a lot of time telling Skywalker stories about the old days. She knew how full of questions he was about his own father. He wasn't really talking about Jacen, and because of that, she could offer patience instead of an angry, pointless question about how long Jedi life expectancies were.

"He has time before he has to make that choice," she said, and as far as she was concerned, that time could stretch for the next seven decades or more.

* * *

They'd been on this humid, densely-jungled planet for three months, and already they were making plans for the next base. Hera wasn't thrilled at the prospect the scouts had come up with, some icy rock they'd have to chisel their base out of, but this world reminded her too much of Yavin 4. Even the birds' mournful cries sounded similar to the ones she remembered, and if her mind knew Yavin had been years ago, her heart still told her to expect to run into faces long gone as she turned every corner.

"It's the best of a bad lot," she agreed, and the vote was unanimous. They'd begin the plans to move before the next rotation.

Hera felt a hard bump against her leg. Chopper stared at her. He'd learned not to interrupt during Command meetings, or so she'd thought. She made a sign at him to stay quiet.

He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Jacen. She stared back at him, then nodded to Madine. "Excuse me."

Chopper followed her out of the room. The moment the door closed, before she could speak, he asked her in a short tone what she wanted.

"Nothing. Why aren't you on the ship?"

Chopper grumbled that she'd sent for him.

"I did not send for you. Who told you that?"

He grumbled again, this time about the man who'd told him General Syndulla needed him urgently, then gave Chopper an order chit compelling him to go look for her. He said he'd stand watch outside the ship.

"Come on," she said. The meeting could go on without her sitting in on the minutiae of their latest move. She hurried back towards the _Ghost_ , Chopper at her heels until he scooted ahead of her when they both saw the hatch down and no one standing outside.

"Jacen!" she called as soon as she was aboard. Chopper beeped and muttered, zooming in and out of rooms, but her terror knew what they'd find even before every room came up empty.

Jacen was gone. Someone had taken him.

Hera was already back outside, desperately scanning the base. They couldn't have gone far, but even the short time since Chopper had left would be enough to get deep into the trees. Hera ran for the guards.

"General?" said the nearest.

"Someone has taken my son," she said with an icy calm she didn't feel. Chopper pulled up a hologram of the man who'd given him the falsified order. "Did you see where they went?"

"We'll ask the other sentries," the guard said, but Chopper had already jacked into the computer station, zipping through records until he brought up a match.

"Dak Nollista. He's new," said the other guard. "He signed on a few months ago."

One glance from her was enough. The guard activated her comm. "All sentries, be on the lookout for an adult human male with a small child. Name or alias is Dak Nollista. Stop him from leaving the base."

But he'd already gone.

* * *

The thing was, the Rebellion was doomed. Dak had known that since watching the rest of his squad get shot all around him during a dogfight. The Empire had more manpower, more firepower, and more everything else they needed to leave the Rebels as nothing more than a grease spot in the history reels. He'd signed on to the Rebellion because he thought he had nothing left to lose. It turned out he had a life left to lose that he was very fond of.

What he lacked was money. With enough credits, he could get out of this whole mess, find a nice, quiet planet in the Outer Rim, and set himself up. He'd never have to think about galactic politics, and if he ever relived the screams of the other pilots as they died, well, that was what alcohol was for. He needed credits for that, too.

The kid started to whine. "I want to go back."

"You will," Dak told him. The thing he knew about kids was that you had to lie to them like you meant it. You told them they were going to get everything they wanted, and they'd get in trouble if they didn't go along. "I told you, your mom said she'd meet us out here. It's just a little further."

Dak had been working on this for a few days. He'd left a ship in a clearing a few clicks away from the base. He'd made contact with someone who knew someone who said the Black Sun was very interested in Syndulla's kid. Expensive interested. He could buy a lot of forgetting with what they were offering. There were rumors around the base about the kid and where he'd come from, but Dak hadn't heard anything that sounded solid. To start with, he didn't look like any Twi'lek Dak had ever seen, so maybe he wasn't even her kid, just another sad sack she'd adopted.

A noise shifted in the undergrowth not far from their position. He'd listened to the briefings about the large predators that stalked the undergrowth, and how they had to be careful. He had his blaster, but right now, he was more worried about being found by one of his fellow soldiers than about some animal he'd never seen since he'd been here.

"Mama's not waiting for us in the woods," the kid said, and he started dragging his feet.

"Sure she is," Dak said, and he picked the kid up. The ship was still a ways off and he didn't have much time. He'd forged orders for the droid, hoping that would keep Syndulla away for enough time to get out of there. She'd send the whole base after him when she figured out what had happened, and Dak intended to be in hyperspace by that time.

"Mister Misty says you're lying. He says you're trying to take me away from Mama." The kid squirmed in his arms, and Dak found himself struggling to hold on.

"Quit it," he snarled, shoving the kid to the ground and smacking him across the face. He expected the boy to burst into tears. Dak hadn't intended to hit him, but there were his old man's words coming out of his own mouth as he said, "You be quiet and behave, or there's worse coming for you."

Instead of crying, the boy went very calm. He looked past Dak, and even though the mark on his face was livid, he smiled faintly. Great. He'd knocked the kid stupid. He hoped that didn't count in the 'alive and unharmed' rider his contact insisted on.

"Come on," he said, grabbing the kid's arm and yanking him to his feet. "Walk."

The kid turned his head and closed his eyes as he walked. In a dreamy voice, he said, "Mister Misty says you aren't a bad man."

"Good." He'd seen the kid around the base chattering to his toys all by himself. Dak remembered playing like that as a kid, imaginary friends and long, lazy days when things were simpler. If the kid wanted to tell himself a story that things were going to be okay, that was fine by him. It would make this easier.

"He says sometimes people do bad things and make mistakes, and that's sad. You don't have to make this mistake."

He looked down at the kid, irritation rising again. "Shut up, kid."

Sounds Dak wanted to ignore made themselves more apparent. There were things moving to either side of them in the thick growth. A rank smell filled the heavy air, like old sweat and the stink of carnivores on the hunt. He squeezed down on the kid's arm with on hand, and pulled out his blaster. He wouldn't panic. He would get out of here, and he'd sell the kid, and he'd never look at a jungle again.

"They won't get us," he said, and he squeezed off a shot to one side in the direction of one of the sounds. There was an angry squeal.

"I like the big cats," the kid said. "Jiji's a good kitty, but she isn't real."

"Shut up, kid!" Dak dragged him faster. He heard the crackling of branches as the unseen animal to the far side of them kept up the pace. He aimed and fired off another shot, hoping to kill this one instead of merely wound it. Behind them, he heard the soft padding of more feet.

He lifted the kid in his arms again and ran for it, firing behind himself. They were almost at the ship. They were almost clear. Dak broke into the clearing out of breath, heart racing.

Half a dozen of the large cats lolled in the hot sunlight streaming down, their mottled green and brown coats glinting with white spots. Beside them, two more came out from the bushes.

He turned. The largest one followed, then sat in the path, blocking his escape. It lifted one paw and licked it, cold eyes watching Dak as he lifted his blaster into a shaking hand. He stumbled back towards the ship, pointing the blaster wildly around them.

The kid looked at him. "You should put me down."

Dak put him down, not even questioning why. The kid stepped away.

"You should put your blaster down, too."

The gun fell from his numb hands. His back was against the ship. The cats moved towards him slowly, except for the largest one. The kid made his way towards that one. Dak watched his payday walk right up to the hungry animal. This had been a bad plan. He was going to turn and jump into the cockpit, and he would be safe. He'd get out of here, and never mind the kid or the money. The Rebels could find what was left of the kid's bones.

The kid reached up and petted the big cat. It rumbled low in its throat, bowing its head to let him get a better angle to reach behind one itchy ear. Were they friendly after all? The kid gave the leader a good scratch, then walked alone into the tangle of trees without looking back. The cats didn't follow.

Dak had dropped his blaster. He couldn't remember why. It didn't matter now. He was leaving.

He got halfway turned before they sprang.

* * *

Hera's search party found Nollista's grisly remains in the clearing with his ship, and plenty of bloody paw prints, but there was no sign of Jacen. She told herself that not finding him here was far better, that he must have gotten free before this, that he was out there and fine somewhere.

From the way the rest of her team looked at her, she wasn't succeeding in keeping that belief on her face.

"We'll keep looking, General," said Tillon, with an understanding nod.

"Investigate the ship," Hera ordered. "Find out what he wanted." She looked at the corpse. "Someone else do the decent thing and deal with the body." She couldn't, not now. Her first instinct was to finish the desecration the cats had started.

* * *

The word came a few hours after dark. Rex's search party had found Jacen safe and sound, and were heading back to base. Hera held back the flood of relief, knowing she'd collapse if she let herself feel anything right now. "You heard them, double time back home."

Her team reached the base at the same time Rex emerged from the dark, holding Jacen just as he had when he was an infant. He didn't set him down, instead bringing him straight to Hera, who pulled her son into the tightest hug ever as the rest of the search teams nodded their congratulations to one another.

"Hi, Mama," he said, as if he hadn't nearly died, as if he hadn't nearly been stolen away from her forever.

All the thank yous in the galaxy couldn't express her gratitude. "Where did you find him?"

"Half a click out."

Hera snuggled him closer. "Let's get you to Medical and make sure you're okay."

"Okay."

In Medical, the droid pronounced Jacen mildly dehydrated but otherwise well. "It is fortunate he was found. He could have died from exposure."

Rex cuffed the droid on the shoulder. "Let's not." To Hera he asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'll be okay. Thanks for bringing him home."

He placed a fond hand on Jacen's head, relief written big on his own face. "It was a lucky break. He was talking to himself. We would have missed him in the dark if we hadn't heard him."

Jacen yawned, and accepted the big drink the med droid gave him. "I was tired but Mister Misty wanted me to tell him stories. I told him about the time Cyrin and Miss Star Sparkle stole the moon." He yawned again. "He likes that one."

Hera didn't remember that story from his datapad. "You'll have to tell me some time," Rex said, and he wished them both goodnight.

"Finish your drink and we can go back to the ship."

"Okay." His eyes kept trying to close.

Hera asked the droid, "Is he going to be all right for tonight?"

"You may take him home."

Hera lifted Jacen into her arms. He wouldn't always be this small, but for tonight, her little boy cuddled against her shoulder as she carried him back to the _Ghost_. Chopper met her at the ramp.

"No, I'm not mad at you," she said. "But tomorrow we're going to reset some of your protocols." She poured Jacen into his bunk then pulled off his shoes. His arms reached for Squishy, already mostly asleep. He'd had a long day.

Now she let the fear and the worry hit, safe from the eyes of the rest and unseen by her sleeping child. He could have died. He could have been taken. There was no question who'd put out the bounty Nollista had intended to collect. He was only the first. More would come, and she wouldn't get lucky again.

He'd be safer on Ryloth, far away from her.

When she woke, she was still sitting in his bunk, lolled uncomfortably against the wall. Jacen was awake and playing with Squishy as he lay there.

"No," he whispered, and giggled. "Yes!"

Hera watched him, her eyes still muddy with sleep and dried tears. "I was so worried about you all alone out there."

"I wasn't alone."

Which was worse. "Did the man hurt you?"

"He hit me once. That was mean." He rubbed his face. "The cats came to help."

Different worries bloomed. Ezra had been able to communicate with animals. They'd come when he'd needed them. "You called them?" He nodded, making Squishy wave an arm at her. "Jacen, don't tell anyone else you called the cats, okay? It's a secret."

"I know. I told Uncle Rex I got away before they came." He frowned. "Are secrets bad?"

"Sometimes we have to keep things secret. The Empire doesn't know where our base is, and if they ask, we have to lie. Other people don't know you can call the cats, and to keep you safe, they shouldn't know. I'm the only one you shouldn't keep secrets from. You need to tell me everything, no matter what. If someone hurts you, if someone tells you to keep something from me, you always tell me. Okay?"

His face froze.

"Jacen?"

He looked down at his doll and wouldn't make eye contact. She placed her hand against his arm. "What's wrong?" Her own imagination played terrors for her again, her child alone in the woods with someone who'd meant him harm. But he was alive, he was safe, he was home, and that was what mattered.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Is it a secret?"

He nodded.

"Can you tell me why you're not supposed to tell me?"

"Because you'll be sad."

She gave his arm a squeeze. "I've been sad before. As long as I have you with me, I'm never going to be that sad again. You can tell me."

He shook his head. "He said not to tell because he doesn't want you to be sad because you can't see him, too."

"Can't see who?"

He made his doll walk around, and his mouth moved into a quirky smile, the same he always got when he was talking to his imaginary friends. "You know."

There had been stories, rumors, legends. Skywalker had even asked her once if she knew anything about hearing voices of the departed. He swore Master Kenobi spoke to him from time to time, and Hera hadn't wanted to believe him. Souls found their way back sometimes, the legends said, if they were determined enough to figure out the secret.

"You weren't alone in the forest. You had a friend with you who kept you talking until you were found. The same friend who taught you how to summon the cats to save you from the bad man."

Jacen nodded. So many old wounds threatened to reopen. A few offered to close once and for all.

Someone talked to Jacen when he was lonely. Someone who was always with him, who would never leave him, and never let him come to harm. Someone who loved Jacen as much as she did, and who didn't want Hera to be sad ever again.

She didn't want to ask, and she couldn't not ask. "Is Mister Misty here now?"

"He's always here. Is that bad?" Jacen asked her, worry moving over his small face.

Hera drew him into her arms, and she hugged him as though holding him this way would keep him small forever. It wouldn't and she couldn't, yet a hundred worries she'd carried for him all his life melted away like crystals of snow under the first beams of sunlight.

"No, little buddy," she whispered into his hair. "It's wonderful."

end


End file.
